


The Lonesome Lighthouse

by hattukissa



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Hannibal is literally half shark, Interspecies Sex, M/M, Rough Sex, alternative universe, hannishark
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-23
Updated: 2018-03-23
Packaged: 2019-04-06 22:29:22
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,884
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14066955
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hattukissa/pseuds/hattukissa
Summary: After the creature came from the sea that night, Will was never the same again.





	The Lonesome Lighthouse

**Author's Note:**

> Okay... So, what can I say. This fic was inspired by CamilleFlyingRotten's Hannishark (especially this piece of art [link](http://camilleflyingrotten.tumblr.com/post/171860634526/hannishark-and-the-light-house-guardian)) If you're not a fan of Hannishark I don't really recommend reading this, haha - I tried to stay true to her vision.
> 
> Writing this was a fun challenge and I also just had to draw something for it. (For some reason AO3 washed out all the colors in my drawing so go to my tumblr if you guys to check out the original...)  
> Hope you guys like it!

He came from the sea at night. The shape of a man, crouched over himself with strength in his shoulder blades, the waves crashing into the shoreline as he sat there, facing away from the blinding glow of the lighthouse and towards the raging sea. The moon that peeked between the ominous clouds caused distortion in the colors, the grey of his smooth, wet skin shining brighter, like the scales of a fish glistening in the sunlight swimming too close to surface. A sliver of silver that would be cold to the touch, the undeniable danger flowing inside his veins both captivating and blood-chilling - a creature of the kind of beauty that only came with something that wouldn't hesitate a second to strike, of something deadly.

It had been a hard winter - an even harder spring - with storms so arduous the foaming sea had nearly wrecked the boat house and smashed it into splinters, where as the lighthouse stood there calm and stony, cold and unwavering, no matter the weather, as still as something that had always been there, a landmark of something left longing. For some an oasis in the middle of the desert of the sea, for some a barren, bitter watchtower, too lonely for anyone to step a foot on.

The man that lived on the small island was quite like the lighthouse. The fire that had once burned inside him had not dimmed - it burned bright when the time came - but he preferred to be left to his own devices, to his own company, for the noise of the world had always hurt his ears more than the endless roars of the turbulent sea. He was a simple man with dirt under his fingernails, the curls of his hair untamed by the wind, skin sun kissed from spending most of his time fixing boats out on the yard where the sea gulls flew over his head in circles, accustomed to him always being there. His days were mostly the same; fishing, working, eating a plain dinner and just before the sun disappeared behind the horizon, lighting the flare that guided the seafarers at night. Such was his life and he wished for nothing other than cloudless skies, of easy breezes that would dry the paint on the boat he had spent all afternoon finishing.

The day had bared no promise of the rain yet it came - in thick rivulets that dripped down the windowsills, a soothing pitter-patter that would have normally given permission to the man to curl up next to the fireplace, grab a book and have a glass of good seasoned whiskey, but he had left the boat there to dry and in the case of another storm, didn't want the winds to knock over the sails or wash out the fresh paint. Grabbing his raincoat from the self-made clothes rack by the front door, he hurriedly buttoned it up while stuffing his feet in his tattered Wellington boots and not bothering to close the front door, tried not to slip on the slope down over to the boat shack. The tips of his shoes sank into the mud as he pushed the boat back inside the shed, biceps straining, and covered it with tarp for the holes in the roof he had not yet managed to fix would not hold back the water. He worked in darkness, sticking nails between his lips and hammering the windows shut - outside the storm seemed to already have passed and the man slowed down, breathing out a sigh of relief for he would still have time to work on the shed before the next one came. The weather was always like this during spring; unpredictable and ruthless, like all things in nature tended to be.

His feet were getting cold as his eyes started to hurt - the spinning flare of the lighthouse didn't provide barely any lighting down on the ground and he decided to call it a night, closing the door hasp after himself. The air had gotten considerably colder than it had been an hour ago and so the man shivered, and adjusted the hood of his raincoat. That was when he saw it.

By the sharp, jagged boulders of the shoreline sat a man, facing away, heavy breaths wrecking his strong-looking body - he was shaking like a wounded animal, his shoulders tense, fingers digging into the soil as if he was in pain, the knobs of his spine protruding from his back in a way that looked nothing short of prehistoric. His first thought was that this was a man who had fell off a boat or been lost at sea and had now somehow washed to the shore with the fleeting storm but with the passing whoosh of the lighthouse's beam, the blood chilled inside his veins, his knees grew weak and the hair on the back of his neck stood up, a sudden coldness washing over him. Fear, gut-wrenching fear, as the creature slowly turned to look at him with gleaming eyes - this was no man - the corners of the monster's mouth curling to form a scowl, showing a peek of sharp, pointed teeth. His feet slipped on the ground trying to back away from the monster, this shark that had somehow taken human form, but the creature had already turned his torso towards him and was now snarling, the sound that came out of him so horrifying there was nothing human about it.

No sound came out of the man's mouth as he quivered there like a child on the ground, waiting for the moment the creature of nightmares would make its move, sink those teeth into the soft flesh of his neck, rip out the tendons and suck the life out of him but it never came. Instead, the shark turned away again, blinking slowly, a tremor wrecking his spine as he looked down on his body - his leg that was clearly wounded and bleeding, the remains of something that had once been a wire fish-trap digging so deep into his calf muscle it seemed like he was going to lose the leg. With a sudden, unnerving sense of calm the man pushed himself up from the ground to approach the creature. It needed his help.

This might have been the single, most stupid thing the lighthouse keeper had done in his life but he simply couldn't help it. Despite the hair-raising, eery appearance of the monster, this was merely an animal - an innocent animal that was hurt and would probably crawl back into the ocean to die had he not at least attempted to help the creature. Men were something to despise but this wasn't a man, it had done nothing wrong, and it was only natural to be afraid, snarl and appear to be as intimidating as possible given the state the creature was currently in. Slowly, with trembling fingers, he reached for the hood of his raincoat to lower it as the shark-like man directed the gaze of his intensely murky eyes to him, revealing his face to better present himself as unthreatening.

"Hey," he said softly, voice coming out raspy as he had not used it in a while, "It's okay."

He could see the muscles in the creature's jaw twitching in alarm, gaze unwavering and unblinking, but it did not stop the man from taking a few more deliberate steps until he was close enough to kneel on the ground next to the creature. A wave washed over the shore, soaking the clothing he was wearing from the waist down but the fear had dulled his senses enough not to feel a thing as he sat down. From up close, he could see every detail and it took what was left of his breath away. It did resemble a man - a straight nose, a wide, plump mouth with full lips, sunken eyes deep in the creature's head shadowed by a strong brow bone, hollow cheeks, but where the ears should have been, pressed against his head, there were fins that morphed into gill slits as his gaze traveled down the monster's neck and then took in the sight of his tail. His skin was smooth looking, a pleasant shade of blue-toned grey, broken up by several light scars that only added to the bloodcurdling image. He even had something that resembled thick strands of hair on the top of his head.

"Hey," he repeated with an even quieter voice, realizing he was now so close the creature would barely have to move to be able to maul him, "I'm going to help you, okay?"

There was no reply. Based on the way air came out of his lungs being on land must have been excruciating for him - his breathing wheezed like the temperature had dropped way below zero, raspy, as if the draft caused his airways to close up and ache. The creature bared his teeth again as the man leaned in closer, hovering a hand over the wound on his leg and then, finally placing it down to touch skin. A violent hiss came out of the being's mouth.

"Shh," he continued, surprised by the slightly rough texture under his palm, now twisting his fingers around the wire and attempting to untie the sharp mess gouging into the flesh. It wasn't an easy task - the fish trap had been self-made out of material that the man himself would not have approved of, too easy for big creatures to get tangled and hurt themselves, and even though he continued to cut himself as the waves drenched their bodies over and over again, he managed to untangle it enough to slowly pull the wire out of the monster's thick calf. Blood came pouring out and stained his hands as well as the sleeves of his raincoat but he did not care for the creature suddenly grabbed his wrist and squeezed it in a death grip, his nostrils flaring as he appeared to be smelling the blood.

"T-there-" voice now stuttering he continued to speak, trying to keep breathing, "All gone now, okay? No more trap, you understand?"

Their eyes met and for a moment there was something, something human behind the monsters gaze - a flickering fragment of something man-like - but he did not release his hold, long fingernails digging into skin. It was crucial to stay calm - any sudden move could have set the monster off into a killing rampage, in a blink of an eye he could be dead, left there on the shore where the waves would finally take him, the lighthouse left empty for what could be decades before they discovered him dead. His breath hitched in fear, eyes widening as wetness gathered into his eyelashes, suddenly overwhelmingly weak staring death right in the eye. It was beautiful looking at the face of danger, and the more he looked the more mesmerizing it became, time passed and he did not realize the nails were no longer pressing into his wrist but rather, simply holding it in place.

"I'm Will," he whispered, trembling all over, "What's your name?"

The answer came unexpected, completely out the blue.

"Hannibal," the monster said, mouth parting and awkwardly forming the word through pointed teeth.

Will's heart felt like it had stopped beating. He couldn't believe it, this must have all been a very strange dream - he would wake up from the armchair by the fireplace with an empty glass of whiskey beside him on the coffee table, the fire having died in the pit, with the beginnings of an alcohol induced headache throbbing inside his forehead. But the waves were too cold, the air was too freezing, and the way the creature's touch felt on his skin was too electrifying to merely be a product of an over-active imagination, it was real, he was here, and the perilous creature before his eyes was gradually becoming more alluring than he could bare. He had to touch, it was impossible to resist and with the added courage of the adrenaline pumping through his veins, he reached out and placed his fingertips over the sea creature's high cheekbone, wanting to memorize his features.

The bite came out of nowhere. There was no time to react, no chance at all to pull his hand away when sharp pain jolted him out of the strange haze, out of the quiet, enthralled slumber and forcibly pulled him back to the surface of reality - the moment was gone, and with a swish of his tail the being moved with surprising agility, disappearing into the raging sea like he had never been there in the first place.

"Wait!" Will pushed himself up while managing to clutch his wounded hand to his chest, "Your leg... It'll get infected... You can't just... Shit!"

Blood dribbled down between his fingers, droplets hitting his Wellington boots as he returned to dry land - it had got him between the thumb and forefinger, deep tooth marks in the flesh that could have easily ripped off his entire hand. Will's breathing had started to speed up as the terror slowly caught up with him, it felt like he was out of his mind, and with a last, fearful glance at the ocean he headed back towards the lighthouse.

Inside it was warm and cozy - like a whole another world which seemed absurd after the cold, intense turmoil he had just experienced out on the beach - but he still trembled all over, wrapping his bleeding hand with a dry towel before undressing and leaving his wet clothes in a pile on the bathroom floor. For the first time in years Will felt like crying. It was like his mind was on fire, like the human brain simply hadn't been designed to grasp the concept of what had just happened, and with growing certainty of his own deteriorating sanity, he poured himself a generous shot of whiskey and drank it all in one go. Outside, it had started to rain again.

 

There were three things that assured him he had not, in fact, lost his mind last night. The morning came bright, like often after storms, the air fresh and easy on the lungs with the crisp scent of salt in the air. First of all, the bite on his hand was most certainly very real and very there - it throbbed like no other, made it hard to move his hand or clench his fingers - and after a thorough inspection of the shoreline next to the boathouse, he did find the remains of the fish trap he had removed from the poor creature's leg last night. The third piece of evidence came well after noon in the form of two rather large seashells someone - or something - had placed on top of one of the large rocks by the shabby wooden dock near the workshop where Will spent most of his time hammering away. It was like the sort of present cats often brought their owners but as this creature was definitely something no-one could own, he couldn't help but take it as a gesture of good will.

He had his dinner out on the porch looking over at the ocean, the two seashells placed on the table next to him (one pink, one white) and sipped on his cup of tea, finally allowing himself to think of the name.

Hannibal.

It might have been only a noise that came out of his mouth, only something that resembled speech but it had seemed more deliberate than just random gargle, especially after he had clearly listened to what Will had told him. He thought of the rough texture of his skin, how beautiful his eyes had been, how his human-like features had so wonderfully blended into something less human, how he was the most magical thing Will had ever seen - and was then struck by worry for the condition of his leg and whether just removing the wire had been enough to save him. His fingers traced over the wound pattern under his bandaged hand absent-mindedly, unable to ignore the thrill that felt like a hot, burning secret inside his stomach of having discovered something so rare, something no-one before him had most likely seen. A water spirit of ancient mythology thought never to have existed. He sat on the porch until the setting sun colored the sky with the colors of spring flowers hoping to catch a glimpse of the sea-man, up to the moment when it got too dark for his eyes to tell the difference between a moving tree branch and the tail of the creature.

 

When Hannibal finally returned, it had been a couple of days. He hadn't left any more presents, at least not that Will had noticed, and the sinking feeling of knowing the creature had most likely curled up somewhere to lick his wounds and die had made him feel sick to his stomach with disappointment. If there was one thing Will had learned living on the island was that the ocean was unpredictable, it gave and it took away, and such was the way of life where man had no business being - but he still couldn't help but think of the things he would say, what he would ask if Hannibal was to someday return. The company of other people wasn't what he needed - he got on well on his own - but Hannibal, if one thing, for sure was not human, and it intrigued him, made him curious like a child and that was something Will hadn't felt in a long while.

He'd been fishing earlier on the day and had settled on the small dock, sitting cross-legged with a bucket between his legs gutting the fish that would become tonight's dinner when he spotted it. Under bright sunlight there was no doubt about it - the top of a head and a pair of eyes staring right at him, unmistakably recognizable even though the creature was trying to stay in the shadow of one of the large rocks covered in seagull droppings a short distance away in the water. Heart filling with content astonishment, Will smiled and dropped the fish into the waste bucket.

"Hey," he cleared his throat and called, watching Hannibal's head disappear beneath the surface and then come back up shortly, this time a bit closer. "How's your leg?"

There was no answer and so, Will picked up the knife and the fish and continued to work while keeping an eye on him. A gentle breeze played with the curls of his hair and the water sparkled all around them as, once again, Hannibal sunk into the water and re-emerged much closer - this time pulling himself half up to lean against the stone closest to the bottom of small dock where Will was sitting, now dipping both of his bare feet in the cool water. Seeing Hannibal in daylight was just as overwhelming as it had been during night. Drops of water glimmered on his grey skin like small crystals, on his eyelashes - and as he settled there, looking up at Will with an strange expression, Will had absolutely no way of knowing how to interpret it. Slowly, Hannibal blinked at him but didn't open his mouth to say anything.

"It's a lovely day, isn't it?" Will tried to strike up a conversation again, swaying his toes in the water lazily. Smiling, he put the bucket and the knife away and brought up the palm of his hand. "It hurt when you bit me here but I think I'm going to be okay, you see? Thank you for the seashells, I've never seen any quite like them here before - where did you get them?"

Hannibal looked up at him and pushed himself up to a sitting position, biceps flexing as he hoisted himself up, keeping his tail in the water for balance. So he had been mistaken - Hannibal did not know how to speak but Will continued to smile nevertheless, for some reason delighting in the way Hannibal's eyes kept darting down to his bare toes swinging in the water and then back up to his face. He was quiet for a while, merely enjoying the sunlight on his skin and the pleasant spring weather, as well as wonderfully pleased to see the creature apparently recovering well. The tempo of his heartbeats had picked up considerably, but Will tried his best to ignore it.

"Will," Hannibal then said confidently, opening his mouth in a weird grimace that kind of looked like he was trying to smile but wasn't sure how to - showing his sharp, pointed teeth to the other man. Teeth that could rip out Will's trachea within seconds.

"Shit," Will breathed out, more and more elated by the second as he pointed at his chest, "I'm Will. My name is Will, shit, you do understand me."

"Will," Hannibal repeated simply, like he thought Will was the one being stupid.

"Where on earth did you come from?" he was still beaming, shaking his head at the absurdity of everything and smiling from ear to ear, trying to think of an uncomplicated way to ask him things but coming up with none. Eyeing him with unquestionable interest, Hannibal's shoulders relaxed as he sank a bit further into the water, seemed to be taking a breath by filtering water through his lungs and came back up again to continue looking at him. There was no hurry, Will had all the time in the world and he returned the creature's gaze with a warm expression until a sudden, chilling touch to his ankle nearly made him jump out of his skin.

"Ooh," Will's eyebrows rose in understanding, watching the tip of Hannibal's tail curl around his ankle, up his calf and underneath the fabric of his pants he had rolled up just below the knee. "You're not going to take a bite, are you?"

But Hannibal seemed to be more interested in Will's foot than he was listening to his words. He slid off the rock and came back up, close enough to wrap the webbed fingers of one of his hands around Will's ankle, tail tightening its hold of the other leg like a boa constrictor. He breathed in the water and brought his face close enough to smell the skin of Will's calf - at least that was what Will thought he was doing - hand moving up and down in an unmistakable caress for a minute until it turned into an examination of his toes. Breath caught in his throat Will stayed absolutely still, unable to move or to tell him to stop as Hannibal guided his foot up out of the water to look at it with a puzzled expression. Slightly worried about the blood flow to his leg with the tail squeezing his calf so tightly, Will tried to wiggle his toes a little, causing Hannibal to look up at him with wide open eyes, blinking in something that resembled amusement. For some reason, Hannibal seemed to be very interested in him.

"Come to water," he said clearly, speaking with a deep voice that sounded surprisingly human - regal even - despite the strange hiss behind his tone and yanked at Will's leg to pull him closer to the edge.

"I'm sorry but that won't do, I can't breathe in the water like you can," Will told him - he'd been so relaxed before but the fear was starting to take over, causing his heart to beat even faster when Hannibal's gleeful expression turned sour, again baring his teeth as he yanked on Will's leg repeatedly. Will's fingers twitched towards the knife that was resting on the planks next to him but he couldn't, there was no way, and so he tried to sound as strict as he could, saying; "Hannibal, stop."

Miraculously, it worked. Hannibal's tail slid back into the water, the tips of his fingers lingering on the skin of his ankle a bit longer until he let go altogether and sunk back into the water, as distinguishably offended as a dog that had been denied its favorite squeaky toy. Feeling strangely cowardly, Will pulled his legs back and put on his socks and his shoes, gathering his belongings with such shaky hands it was hard to pick up anything. He felt weird, a good kind of weird and it terrified him - had it been so long since the last time he had been touched that a... Will had to physically shake his head to stop the trail of thought.

"Will," his voice came muffled by the water that partially covered Hannibal's face, and no, it wasn't Hannibal's fault - he had done nothing wrong in being curious, he was innocent in this and Will should have been grateful now that he knew Hannibal didn't want to eat him, at least for the time being.

"Hannibal," he simply said in return, giving him one more hesitant smile before leaving the shore to return to the lighthouse on main land.

 

Hannibal was there, waiting for him first thing in the morning when Will emerged from the house with a box of tools he'd spent the last evening sharpening and cleaning. Knowing he was there but not paying him any attention, Will headed to the boathouse to get to work which turned out to be difficult with his right hand still wrapped up in bandages. The pleasant weather of last night was a mere memory, a fleeting taste of spring that had now had to shift aside for some more rain, and Will worked the best he could until lunch time, gathering up the resources he was going to use to fix the roof of the shack when the next chance would come in the form of fair weather. Hannibal nearly gave him a heart attack when he pushed open the heavy door to exit the workshop and found him right behind it, standing there on dry land like some sort of out-of-space mirage in the foggy rain. Suddenly standing right before the creature, did Will only now realize how large he truly was - both taller and wider than him - and had he suddenly wanted to overpower Will he would have no difficulty in doing so, which was partially why he couldn't do a single thing when Hannibal suddenly took a firm hold of his wrist and squeezed it.

"Don't sneak up on me like that!" Will's voice didn't come out as strong as he would have liked and so he scowled at the other, trying to pull his hand back which naturally was utterly useless. Hannibal seemed to take it as a challenge and literally growled at him through gritted teeth, then pressing something large and slimy against the front of Will's flannel shirt with his free hand.

"Fisssh," he said, the letter s coming out funny through his pointed teeth with a peek of a tongue and Will blinked, taking what was offered with utmost confusion. It was a large, brown trout, fresh out of water, and as Hannibal yanked on his hand once more before releasing it, Will was beyond confused about what was going on. Another gift?

"Will eats fisshh," Hannibal told him matter-of-factly, again quite obviously thinking Will was being incredibly dim-witted for not understanding at all while Hannibal tried his best to remain dignified. Hannibal let out another frustrated hiss, turned around and headed back to the sea where he had came from, his body getting swallowed by the waves like entering the embrace of a long lost lover.

 

The roof fixing could wait. The day was simply too nice to spend working, for the winter had been so long Will thought he deserved this, just one day of sweet nothing-at-all, and so he grabbed a book and headed to the dock, hoping Hannibal would show up. The meal he had cooked out of the trout Hannibal had presented to him last night had been delicious, he'd even had some to spare for today and he wanted to say thank you as he hadn't properly managed to express his gratitude last night. He had to wait until noon for the creature to show up, his head emerging from the sparkling water to check up on Will, disappearing for a moment, and then reappearing by the smooth stone beneath Will's feet he had chosen to sit on the last time he had spent time there with him. Will would never get used to the sight of the creature's face, of those high cheekbones and intelligent eyes, his gaze that was filled with human-like emotion.

"Thank you for the fish, it was delicious," Will told him warmly, but noticed Hannibal was looking at his shoes with clear distaste, a crease between his non-existent brows like they had somehow offended him. "Did you... Did you want me to put my feet in the water?"

Hannibal returned his gaze for a moment, opening his mouth but no sound came out. Still, Will understood.

"Okay, just..." Will mumbled, untying his shoelaces and taking off his socks together with the shoes before lowering his feet next to the tip of Hannibal's tail that was visible from the water, his words getting messed up with the first touch of the creature's fingers to his skin rather than the coolness of the water, "Just don't... Um, okay... Well, then."

"Why," Hannibal started, struggling to find the right words while sliding his hand up Will's calf and underneath the fabric of his well worn pants, then tugging at the pant leg and accidentally poking a hole through the clothing with his fingernail. Destroying Will's clothes didn't seem to concern him.

"Ooh," Will understood suddenly, "You don't understand why I wear clothes - it's because it gets cold for us, we have to wear this stuff to stay warm, you see?"

"Cold?" Hannibal repeated, pushing himself up and pressing the front of his body against Will's leg, placing his chin on Will's knee and looking up at him for a moment, "Clothesss taste bad."

Words had again left him and so he watched as Hannibal pressed his mouth to his knee, bared his teeth and scratched the rough fabric with the sharp tips of his canines, his hand now so high up inside Will's pant leg it was grasping the back of his thigh. Parting his lips again, Hannibal's teeth tore into the fabric and broke the surface of the skin, staining his mouth red as he nuzzled his face against Will's lower thigh. It stung like a bitch but for some reason Will couldn't make himself order Hannibal to stop. He'd never liked those pants anyway.

"Your skin is sssoft... Underneath," Hannibal spoke, tongue between his teeth causing the lisp, and briefly pressed his lips to Will's now exposed skin in an apologetic gesture. His tongue came out to taste him briefly - it was wet and slippery - and then, let out a palpable love-struck sigh against Will's knee. It was almost cute, almost, though Will could not pinpoint what exactly had just made his heart clench in his chest rather painfully.

"It's okay, it's just a scratch," Will heard himself say before he realized what was coming out of his mouth, how breathless his voice sounded, how fuzzy his mind was becoming, how hard he was suddenly getting inside his underwear just from the close proximity of the shark-man and all of a sudden tried to push Hannibal's head away, horrified with himself. What was he doing?

Hannibal wouldn't budge. His hold of the back of Will's thigh tightened, his tail curling around the other leg as he looked up at Will's face, gaze filled with arousal and said, "Come into the water."

"No," Will croaked, tentatively placing a hand on Hannibal's cheek and feeling the rough surface of his skin which caused Hannibal to take a hold of his hand and bring it to his lips, rubbing his mouth to the inside of his wrist. The hand inside his pant leg continued to move in soothing circles, going up, up... Will's breathing came out harsher and harsher, his eyelashes fluttering - what was the worst thing that could happen? Would it be so horrible to let him feel, just to see what he would do... The sound of the moving water was nearly putting him in some strange, trance-like state.

"Will."

"O-okay," he mumbled, barely audible and just like that, Hannibal yanked him into the cool water without a warning, slammed his body against one of the wooden poles of the dock, the tip of his tail curling around Will's throat to keep him there. His hands slid below the hem of his shirt, roaming all over his body and Will let him, pressing the palms of his hands on Hannibal's scar covered chest to feel the strength in his incredible physique.

Hannibal pressed closer, impossibly closer, and held him so tight the air that was left in his lungs came out in a moan, and just to stop Hannibal from clawing his way though Will's clothing, he reached down between their bodies to open the button and zipper of his pants and push them down his hips. Half free of clothing, Will wrapped his legs around the creature's torso, struggling to keep his head from going under water as Hannibal seemed to suddenly get overwhelmed by all the naked skin at his disposal. His teeth scraped the side of Will's jaw like razor blades, like an over-excited carnivore, and there it was, something hard suddenly pressed up against his thigh that made panic crawl its way up Will's throat. Will couldn't recall seeing the creature's genitalia but he definitely had something down there, something that felt rough and cold and very firm like the rest of his skin but hadn't been there before. Wrapping his arms behind Hannibal's neck, he tried to guide him to meet Will's gaze, to tell him to slow down, that he had not intended things to go that far - but when a soft pair of lips pressed to the side of his mouth he couldn't stop it, his lips immediately melting into a kiss.

Kissing seemed to be something completely foreign to Hannibal. A surprised sound came from the back of his throat when Will turned his head to brush his mouth against his, tongue coming out to taste him, and Hannibal opened his mouth in return, nuzzling Will's lips with his own, clearly unfamiliar with the whole concept. He shouldn't be doing this - he was really digging his own grave here - but it felt so good to be held so tight, rough hands touching him everywhere, grasping every piece of naked skin they could reach. Hannibal's breath on his lips was surprisingly pleasant and his mouth tasted like salt, like the air after a storm at sea, and so Will kept pushing for more, wanting more, attempting to guide Hannibal to let Will teach him how to properly kiss. A hand found its way between Will's legs, slippery fingers wrapped around his length causing Will to let out another moan, the desire in his voice so evident Hannibal simply lost it and bit him again. His teeth closed around Will's lower lip like a bear trap, the tail still wrapped around Will's throat tugged him fully under water and there, completely submerged, Will breathed in a shocked lungful of water.

Hannibal didn't seem to understand Will was going to drown for he pressed the man to the ocean floor, seaweed swaying around them softly as he crawled over him, now sinking his teeth to the soft skin of Will's shoulder. Will started to fight madly, wriggling like prey that had been caught in a net but Hannibal's textured palms worked well under water in secluding him in place and not letting him slip away. The water around them was murky with blood that gushed out of Will's shoulder, blocking whatever visibility there was left. The fight was starting to leave him, his fists that had been banging the creature's chest to let him go uncurling, eyes seeing nothing but black but he felt it all - the tail squeezed around his torso, the hands that bent his knees and the weight that settled between them, the fingers that hurriedly sought for the place to enter his body. Another lungful of water and there - Will lost consciousness.

 

He woke up to the sound of his own coughing. His body was stinging all over, lungs raw like they'd been put through a cheese grater, his throat, his shoulder, his face, everything was burning. When he opened his eyes the world was swimming in and out of focus - the sea creature's face looming over him, the sky that had began to turn a deep shade of orange - and it made Will so nauseous he pushed himself over to lay on his side and vomited it all out. The seawater felt like acid on his abraded adenoids, his entire body convulsing in violent tremors as Hannibal's hands moved up and down his half naked body, not helping at all. With the sensation returning to the tips of his fingers, Will almost hoped he had died. The rocky sand under his back felt like thorns and the bites now decorating his skin throbbed with every heartbeat.

"Will," came Hannibal's voice from above him, his face - if possible - a perfect picture of undeniable concern. "Will?"

Unreasonable anger flared within him as Will tried to push himself up, failed, and then shoved Hannibal in the chest to gesture him to get off. Instead, Hannibal placed a large palm over the nastiest wound on Will's shoulder where the shirt he was still half wearing had been mostly torn, trying to suppress the blood still trickling down from each tooth imprint.

"Get off me," Will tried to say but the words came out so hoarse they didn't make any sense. Hannibal let out a whine that sounded so miserable it tugged at Will's heart strings, like a dog that had just been kicked by its owner, and carefully, he lowered his face to brush his lips against Will's in a pathetic attempt of a kiss. It continued for a while, lips moving across his forehead, over his eyelids, the tip of his nose, the stubble over his jaw, a ticklish spot behind his ear and Will sighed as he gave up, staring at the sky above them as waves crashed into the shore, washing over their lower bodies playfully as Hannibal continued his inexperienced kissing. This wasn't going nowhere, he just couldn't stay mad.

"It's okay," he said, the rage leaving him as quickly as it had came and raised a hand to place it behind Hannibal's neck, fingertips drawing soothing circles to his coarse skin, "You didn't know, it's okay, I'm okay."

A sudden sense of calm came over him with the gradually dissolving adrenaline of having just gone through a near death experience, and with horrifying certainty, Will realized he had liked it. He liked this strange creature, liked how Hannibal had held him down, what his hands had felt like, and swallowed thickly - God damn it, he'd even liked getting bitten even though it could have easily cost him his life. Hannibal shifted slightly, meeting Will's gaze and making that weird face again - a smile that was more a tooth-filled wince - and as Will did give one in return, a mere twitch of his lip, Hannibal seemed to find the reassurance he'd been searching of the other's well-being. Slowly, he pushed himself away from Will's body, every muscle tense as Hannibal stood there on his knees with his full body on display, the beginning of a sunset giving him an iridescent halo. He was magnificent.

In the dying light of the early evening, Will saw that Hannibal did not only have a penis but in fact there were two - and they were both still hard. Coming to the realization that Hannibal had definitely not had time to fuck him whilst in the water - he would have felt something that big even from the afterlife - oh, he had definitely tried, but must have realized something was wrong when Will had completely blacked out. He tried his best not to gawk at the wonder between the creature's legs but failed miserably, his eyes refusing to obey as Hannibal sat on the rocky sand opposite him and relaxed his posture. Astonishingly, the strange thing between his legs didn't really bother Will. It definitely didn't look human, nothing about it was human, but it wasn't disgusting, it looked just right for his body and in a way it only added to his allure. Another wave washed over their bodies as Will swallowed thickly, unwilling to accept the desire pumping through his veins.

"Will can't..." Hannibal started, again struggling with the words as he pointed at Will and then at himself, "Hannibal wanted- I wanted-"

"Oh, I know what you wanted to do," Will assured, adjusting what was left of his shirt to better cover his shaking body, "I just don't think it's going to work."

"We do thisss," Hannibal opened his mouth and explained the best he could, "We bite, we leave marksss, we use our teeth when we breed. It mussst hurt."

"We're different that way," Will tried to make him understand as he slowly pushed himself up to trembling legs that had started to get numb from the cold, "You nearly killed me, Hannibal. I could have bled to death or even drowned."

"Will."

"I'm going inside, I'm going to get hypothermia," he only said, not knowing how on earth he was supposed to handle a situation like this. Why was he becoming more and more smitten with the creature that probably ate people - that probably would have ate Will too had he not happened to help him get rid of the fish trap - it simply made no sense. Every single sense of his was against it but there was something, like a parasite growing inside him that made him want it.

"Will," Hannibal repeated looking anguished, clearly trying to put his thoughts into words.

"Hannibal," Will replied with a grave voice before turning around to head back towards the lighthouse while trying to maintain what little was left of his dignity.

The bath he ran for himself was wonderfully warm, the hand he squeezed around his aching cock felt as good as ever - and as he held his breath and slid underneath the surface of the water, staying there so long it became painful as he came harder than ever, knowing nothing would ever be the same. Nothing would ever feel quite like the brutal hand that had wrapped around his erection, like the force of the body that had kept him down, the tail that had constricted his airways, the lips that had explored his mouth. With the shame that washed over him came the realization that Will wanted Hannibal to fuck him, he scrubbed away the blood, the sea water and the dirt that had stuck to his skin like sin.

 

Will dreaded looking in the mirror next morning. He'd done his best to patch up but there wasn't much he could have done to the massive bruise on his lip and his cheek. Just as his hand had pretty much healed fully, Hannibal had given him plenty more future scars and he would continue to give them for Will no longer knew if he could stay away from the creature, not after how good it had felt to touch him. It turned out it wasn't up to him - Hannibal stayed away for the most part, watching him work from a distance while lazily laying around on the rocks near the dock, basking in the sunlight with his eyes barely open, tail swaying languidly in the water like some royal specimen of a half-cat, half-shark. Will didn't strike up a conversation as he worked. He finished the boat he had been working on, spent a couple days fixing the roof of the boat house, washed every small window on the massive lighthouse and scrubbed every nook and cranny in time for summer.

Somehow it was a pleasant way of life, being at peace with the weather that was gradually turning warmer, the playful, constant ripple of the waves hitting the shoreline, and Hannibal, always there, bringing him various fish every single day but still keeping his distance. Will understood what it meant - it was a courtship, and it had been that from the start - and now he was merely waiting for something, possibly for Will to come to him. The bruises had begun to heal, the skin mending itself as the desire in him grew, causing him to toss and turn at night, stroking himself thinking of the way Hannibal had used the strength of his body to overpower him into submission. He kept thinking of the way he had looked on the beach, naked and exposed as ever, the beauty of his inhuman features, and wondered whether Hannibal though him as captivating as Will found him to be.

 

The last storm of the spring came a day after, late at night when Will had already gone to bed. The sound of thunder seemed to wreck the entire island, rattling every window, causing the old building to creak like no other as Will woke, throwing off the blanket and padding his way to the nearest window to check whether the newly repaired boat shack was holding up well. The first lightning flashed across the sky, showing light on the raging ocean but the second came all the way down to the ground, smashing the small dock into pieces as it hit the rocks below with a magnificent bang. It was the place where Hannibal liked to stay half submerged, observing Will's actions with keen eyes from afar as Will tried his best not to pay attention to him. Rain came down so hard it sounded like hail and with a sudden surge of pure panic, Will rushed to the door and jumped into his Wellington boots. Hannibal - Hannibal was in the water, what if he'd been right there where the lightning had struck - and defying all forces of nature, Will dashed down the paved path that lead towards the sea dressed in his sleepwear, nearly slipping with every step.

"Hannibal?" He called, his voice drowned out by the rumbling thunder. He was drenched within minutes as the rain poured over him, the curls of his dark hair sticking to his forehead and he called, "Hannibal!"

It was too dark to see anything besides the smoking remains of what was left of the dock. It was like some scene from the end of the world, pieces of junk swimming in the water, the wind blowing around dry leaves and making spirals in sand. Desperately thinking he should have grabbed a lantern from the porch on his way, Will searched the endless horizon for a sign, knowing that had there been blood, it would have long ago washed away by the ocean that looked like it was boiling. He had no reason to think Hannibal would have happened to be there - the sea was his home after all - but he couldn't think straight with the panic that pulsed through his veins. He had to see him, if only once, just to touch him once again and tell him Will wanted him there. He was sick of being like the lighthouse, of being so used to the loneliness, and meeting someone like Hannibal had so thoroughly wrecked his entire world Will still couldn't be sure it had all actually happened. But it hadn't been a dream - it might even end up becoming his downfall - and as there was no reason to lie to himself, Will was fine with whatever happened as long as he could taste Hannibal's lips again. He had long ago stopped fearing death - he was at peace with whatever came his way - and as the sea had taught him, one could never truly predict when the end came. He might as well lose himself in Hannibal's violent embrace.

"Hannibal!" Will shouted as loudly as he could as his feet took him to the shoreline where Hannibal had dragged him after their failed encounter in the water. Another lightning flashed across the sky and there, he spotted it - Hannibal was, in fact, in the water but seemed to be unharmed and now making his way towards him. There, in the shallow water he stood up with a grin that was all teeth, like the storm that continued to rage was nothing to worry about.

And Will ran to him. His boots were left on the rocky sand as he waded into the water, not stopping even though the cold made him shudder, the t-shirt he was wearing sticking to his skin, and Hannibal met him half way, their arms wrapping around one another as their lips came into contact. There wasn't a single bone in his body that was afraid, there was simply no time for fear when Hannibal pressed his mouth to his, letting his lips relax and mimic the way Will was moving his. It felt like a real kiss - much more than it had last time their lips had touched - and Will couldn't think of nothing more fulfilling than the way Hannibal's mouth caressed his. With their mouths glued together they sank onto their knees, waist deep in the water, and Hannibal pulled Will into his lap, opening his mouth for Will's tongue to explore. He tasted even better than Will remembered, already ecstatic from the way Hannibal wrapped his tail around his waist, the tip finding its way underneath the fabric of his shirt and stroking the small of his back leisurely.

"I want you so much," Will sighed against Hannibal's lips, getting his bottom lip gently nipped in the process before kissing him again. Thunder rumbled somewhere that now seemed far away, the eye of the storm passing as the rain kept pouring down on them. With his heartbeat in his throat, Will reached down to grab the hem of his shirt and pull it over his head, then letting the waves wash it away with them. Hannibal let out a sound that was clearly pleased, giving up kissing Will for a moment to rub his lips all over Will's chest instead. His tongue came out and licked the bruise on Will's shoulder, then continued to gently bite at a nipple without tearing skin.

"Sssoft," Hannibal hissed like he was high, dragging his pointed teeth along the length of Will's throat - and Will knew he wanted to bite, wanted to maul him like a rabid dog, and strangely, the mere thought of that made his cock throb like it had never been touched before. Hannibal was hard too, Will could feel it from where he was seated, but was most definitely holding back and Will realized - Hannibal was the one that was scared this time. He was afraid of hurting Will, of losing control like he had before and accidentally killing him in the process of trying to make love.

Inhaling shakily, Will looked up at the sky, at the storm clouds drifting above them and decided it didn't matter. He brought his hands to Hannibal's cheeks, lifting his face to look him in the eye, ignored the alarm bells of self-preservation ringing inside his head and whispered; "It's okay, don't hold back - just... Just do what you want to me, okay?"

Hannibal's eyes widened as his hands tightened their hold of Will's bare thighs, tail squeezing Will's midsection and he started to tremble with contained excitement, like he was about to unwrap the best present imaginable. He blinked slowly, giving Will one more chance to back down but as the only thing Will did, was let his fingers dance across the back of Hannibal's neck, the creature picked him up like a sack of potatoes and carried him towards the shore. They came tumbling down to the ground, still half in the water but where they could both somewhat breathe, and Hannibal covered his body with his own, his hips rocking against Will's with so much force he felt himself sink into the scratchy sand. Hannibal had forgotten all about kissing but his mouth still rushed all over Will's skin mindlessly, teeth tugging on an earlobe, feverishly leaving prickling scrapes across Will's chest and his neck as he removed Will's underwear. Will could no longer tell the difference between Hannibal's hands and his tail as something wrapped around his cock and stroked it roughly, his breath leaving him in shuddering gasps that only seemed to urge Hannibal to get to the fucking faster.

Before Will knew what was happening, Hannibal had flipped him over to his stomach and pressed him to the sand so unexpectedly that Will spluttered around a mouthful of seawater. One of his hands searched between his legs, his nails digging into the soft flesh of Will's ass and Will tried to brace himself for what was to come by squeezing his eyes shut and trying his best to relax his body. Hannibal moaned in the back of his throat, pressing his mouth to the nape of Will's neck and smelling him while his fingertips found what they were looking for and pressed into him briefly. It was going to hurt like crazy, probably more than the bites had, but by now Will was so hard, so insanely turned on he was going to pass out if Hannibal didn't hurry up and do something. Hannibal shifted above him, spreading Will's legs with his thighs and then, attempted to thrust into him with something that felt like an arm rather than a dick. Panic built up in him with the realization that Hannibal wanted to stuff both of his cocks inside Will at the same time and that was something his body simply wasn't going to adjust to just like that.

"One at a time- one at a- shit..." Will panted, voice coming out weak but Hannibal seemed to have heard him for he let out a growl, sank his teeth to the back of Will's neck and settled for forcing just one into him with nothing but brute strength. Will cried out loud, his fingers digging into the sand, entire body shuddering violently as Hannibal held him down by the neck like the furious beast he was. The cock inside him felt slick, something Will hadn't expected, and as Hannibal rammed into him, hard from the start, Will pushed back without a single care of possibly damaging his body. He was ecstatic, eyes rolling to the back of his skull as Hannibal moved over him, his tail bound around Will's torso so tight it seemed like Hannibal was worried Will would somehow slip through his fingers even though at this stage, it would be impossible. He kept swallowing sea water with every intake of air, coughing and then whimpering, but he was close, so close, that a mere touch to his cock would have sent him right over the edge. Hannibal's thrusts faltered for a moment - he withdrew his teeth out of Will's neck and rumbled deeply, pulling them both up to their knees to make sure Will could keep breathing.

With the new angle Will's legs started to shake so badly that Hannibal had to keep him up as he continued to thrust into him violently, and even though Will now had the use of his hands he couldn't bring himself to touch his cock with Hannibal slamming into him so forcefully he could practically feel every thrust in his spine, every vertebra on fire. It turned out he didn't need to - as Hannibal's teeth sunk into his skin for the second time, right next to the first bite, Will came, head hanging low with his chin to his chest, water washing away the cum, his eyes closing as the intensity of his orgasm left him utterly boneless. He was sobbing from relief, the pleasure causing his fingertips and toes to tingle, and felt Hannibal was close too, his movements becoming irregular but more thorough, a low growl reverberating from somewhere within his chest. Nails dug to the smooth flesh of Will's inner thighs where Hannibal held him, tail wrapped around Will's throat as he came, cock pulsing his seed deep inside Will, breath coming out in uncontrollable shudders.

Hannibal's climax seemed to last forever. Drops of thick, white fluid dribbled down Will's thighs and disappeared into the water - it was like nothing Will had ever felt before for there was a lot of it - the warmth of Hannibal's cum a sudden contrast to his otherwise cool skin, to the cold air around them with the storm that had now left the small island and traveled further away towards the endless sea. It warmed him up from the inside, heat rushing to his cheeks as he listened to Hannibal's breathing start to wheeze from being mostly out of the water for so long. There was a million things Will wanted to express but couldn't come up with the right way to say them and so he settled on reaching behind them and stroking the back of Hannibal's thigh, a triumphant smile spreading to his lips with the realization that he was, in fact, still alive and had just had the best sex of his life with a shark-like creature that had one day appeared from the ocean. It didn't matter that his entire body felt like he'd just been ran over by a truck when Hannibal held him like this, when he felt so alive it was like the wind was touching him for the first time, like the waves that splashed around them were caressing him as they would a newborn.

When Hannibal pulled away, Will fell to his hands and knees without the support. He tried to catch his breath for a moment before managing to gather enough strength to turn around and face the creature who was half submerged in water, apparently doing the same by filtering water through his lungs. Hannibal came up for a short while, enough to flash him a grin and show him his teeth that were still red from Will's blood. He glanced at the lighthouse, then back at Will, like he was encouraging Will to get up and crawl his way back inside.

"Will should not get hypothermia," Hannibal uttered perfectly and it sounded so absurd Will couldn't help but let out a laugh. Hannibal made a sound similar to that, looking like he wanted nothing more than to wrap his tail around Will's ankle and pull him back under the surface with him. He would be here tomorrow, he'd be here the day after, and as Will got up to his wobbly legs, he knew this wasn't going to end here. He wondered whether Hannibal's kind mated for life.

"Will," Hannibal said, drops of water glistering on his beautiful skin.

"Hannibal," Will said in return, smiled, and headed back towards the lighthouse. Tonight the beaming flare that guided the seafarers at night somehow seemed a bit less lonely.

[](https://ibb.co/jKmnpn)   
  



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